


Common Love Isn't For Us

by Izavel9210



Category: Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: 1920s, ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crime, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Guns, Harleen is a menace to Gotham, I cannot stress this enough, Joker is in hell where he belongs, Lots of guns, Minor Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, POV Pamela Isley, Pamela: Well mark me down as scared and horny, ahem anyway, chaotic times, no beta we die like men, too many tags tbh, well no actually its just a little angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24253114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izavel9210/pseuds/Izavel9210
Summary: It's the 1920's, crime is at an all time high in Gotham city. An unassuming florist running from her past has a chance encounter with a striking, unforgettable criminal. Harlivy, Red Diamond, whichever name, it's a story of Pamela Isley and Harleen Quinzel.On hiatus.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Common Love Isn't For Us

**Author's Note:**

> There is very subtle rape/non-con elements throughout the entire fic based on what Professor Woodrue did to Pamela, but in case you aren't into that or might get triggered, you should probably not read this fic just to be safe.

_ The edge of the wooden desk dug into the small of her back, as if it were trying to pierce her skin. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it did. It was cramped here; cold; hidden away on her own little island of… something. She had to-she didn’t know whether or not she would survive if she left. She wasn’t sure what to call this feeling, or if it even had a name. Despite the tall man leaning over her, his skin hot and scalding to the touch, and his iron grasp holding her down, she was freezing. Funny how life never worked out for her. _

Pamela awoke with a cold sheen of sweat on her face and body, fading into consciousness with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She didn’t want to open them-she couldn’t. Because he might be there. She let out a breath slowly, the air hissing through her teeth.  _ No, he couldn’t be there. That was a stupid notion. I know better, I was on my way to a doctorate in botany. I graduated from high school as the valedictorian. I should be smarter than this. I AM smarter than this. _ Yet, she couldn’t shake off her pounding heart. Deciding to make the logical decision, she clenched her jaw and her eyes flew open, intense green staring up at the ceiling. 

She sighed a little. Another nightmare about him-it was a recurring theme at this point. She couldn’t go two weeks without having one. She sat up slowly, getting out of her bed and performing her daily morning ritual robotically, from brushing her teeth to picking out a type of tea (she felt like Earl Grey today) to drink this morning. It was not yet 8 o’clock in the morning, and yet she felt tired from the day already. It was never nice to wake up like  _ that _ . 

Soon enough, she was at the front of her flower shop (Gaia’s Garden, the sign read) in a strappy, floral-patterned sundress, giving the news boy a nickel for the daily paper. She walked back into the shop, going upstairs to her living quarters to read the most recent headlines. It was a quiet life-as quiet as you could get in a city like Gotham-she supposed. A filthier, crime-ridden escape from Seattle, but nice enough, she supposed. Besides, Selina Kyle was here, and she counted as a sort-of friend. It would do for the time being, until she was able to get her bearings. 

_ And go where? Nowhere. No one’s going to take you in. Not your parents, you don’t have any other family, and do I really want to live in the house of the biggest cat-burglar in Gotham?  _

Her thoughts continued to ramble on in a negative manner as she sipped the hot tea slowly. She was taken by surprise when a car horn blared rather loudly outside of her shop, jumping a little. She shook her head, looking instead down at the newspaper in her hands. 

**_GOTHAM’S LOCAL HOODLUMS LOSE THEIR LEADER!_ **

_ Last night, the famed criminal mastermind known as the Joker was found murdered in the streets of downtown Gotham. The GCPD suspect the gunshot wound was a hit-and-run, and the murderer is yet to be caught. There were no eyewitnesses, nor enough clues left for the detectives to have a strong lead. So far, the list of prime suspects go as far as Black Mask and his barbaric sidekick Victor Zsasz, and some even claim it was Gotham’s very own masked vigilante, Batman. Some say Batman finally had enough of the Joker’s dangerous plans and decided to finish his archenemy once and for all? Or perhaps the murderer was famed thief, Catwoman. Maybe she needed the Joker out of the way so she could have Batman to herself. Or perhaps it was something more? Several eyewitnesses of Batman defeating Catwoman have claimed the two people have certain chemistry... _

At that point, Ivy just stopped reading and had taken to rolling her eyes at the outrageous claims the newspaper was making. Dating? Selina and that overgrown rodent?  _ As if _ . She looked up at the clock, the hands pointing to 8:53. It was almost time to open up her shop.

Pamela grabbed her dark green apron and slipped it on as she walked downstairs. She checked the plants one final time, inspecting for any browning flowers or dried leaves. (It would have been a blow to her flower-care pride if there were.) Once she was confident there were none, she grinned smugly and took her watering can off her desk, ready to make her daily rounds as she waited for anyone to walk through that door. 

**RDRDRDRDRD**

For some strange reason, there was a blonde trying to hide behind a row of brightly-colored daffodils. She was peering outside the window, seemingly oblivious to Pamela’s presence. She was attractive, no denying that, if you got over the sheer shock-factor of her flamboyantly dyed hair and seemingly endless tattoos. She looked no older than Pamela-perhaps even a year or two younger.

_ Did they even allow women into tattoo parlors? I mean, they must have, for her to be so shamelessly marked.  _ Pamela felt a hint of grudging respect. At least some people had the guts to be themselves.

It was a bold choice for her to put a heart right on her cheek, or some word that started with an ‘R’. She was wearing a scandalously short red dress, with a thick black wool coat that seemed to hang over her shoulders. There wasn’t any fur, which

seemed rather fashionable in the big cities, lined around the collar of the coat, but to compensate, she adorned a rather fetching red cap with embroidered roses. It looked like an expensive getup, yet she didn’t seem like the upper class type. She had a gloved hand hiding in the inner pocket of her coat, staring intensely outside the window with curious, periwinkle-blue eyes. 

Pamela’s gaze finally followed the strange girl’s, finding herself looking at two men in dashing, perfectly tailored dark suits and dapper hats, approaching her shop. They were getting closer and closer, and as their faces began to grow clearer in her line of sight, so did the strange, similarly-shaped bumps in their suits. 

_ I bet they’re carrying guns. _

After all, it wouldn’t be the first time that Gotham’s wonderful, law-abiding citizens tried to hold up her flower shop. It certainly couldn’t be the last in a neighborhood like this. She quickly retreated to the back of the shop, locking up the register and making sure her gardening shears were close by. The two men were varying heights, the one on the right with slicked back hair that was greasier than his smile, the left brooding, sullen, and rather burly. She guessed the one on the left was a bodyguard of some sort.

Greasy stepped up to Pamela, his eyes scanning the shop, and finally focused on the redheaded girl in front of him. The strange girl from before was nowhere to be found-except for the edge of a black heel next to a potted baby dogwood tree. Pamela couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face at that. Perhaps the lady was hiding from them? She could imagine why, with the increasingly likely chance of them being robbers or criminals of some sort.

“Excuse me, little lady, but have you seen a blonde dressed in black and red recently?” Said Greasy. He seemed to have mistaken Pamela’s small smile to be a sign that she was attracted to him, if the newly smug and ‘charming’ grin on his face was any indication. She was sure that to some women he might have been rather handsome. However, to her, the most attractive thing about him was the fact that with a bit of luck, he would be leaving soon. 

“Sorry, no. I haven’t seen anyone with that description before.” Pamela replied, casual and brisk. She wasn’t sure why she was lying for the girl in red-she was a complete stranger, after all. But something about those bright blue eyes, that intense stare… Pamela found herself wanting to be the object of that gaze. 

“Are you sure? She’s been causing a lot of trouble lately. If you have seen her, you’d be helping us out greatly.” 

_ Looks like he won’t be leaving anytime soon. I need to end this quickly. _

“Of course. If I do see her, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.” She said, a bubbly lilt to her voice as she giggled, looking shyly down at her shoes, then back up at him.

The man looked slightly taken aback by the sudden change in Pamela’s attitude, but he seemed to accept it, and grinned slyly. 

“Y’know, it doesn’t have to be just for that girl. You can come and visit me anytime you’d like, miss.” He replied, tipping his hat at her. 

_ Ugh. How subtle of him _ .

“Sorry, but my mister isn’t going to be too happy about that.” She replied, her voice almost cracking with the strain of having to talk an octave higher than usual.

“Aww, well that’s too bad, sweetie. Maybe I’ll have better luck next time.” He winked at her and she fought the urge to hurl on his shiny leather shoes.

“Bye-bye, sir.” She replied, throwing on a large smile for show as she ushered them lightly out of her shop. 

She let out a sigh of relief, closing the door behind them as they made their way down the streets again. Now, to deal with the other stranger in her shop. 

She quietly made her way to the lady behind the daffodils. The girl in red was looking down at the two men as they made their way down the street, and she sighed as they disappeared, turning the corner at the end of said street.

“Excuse me?” Said Pamela, tapping the girl’s shoulder lightly.

Within the span of a few quick seconds, she found herself being pushed against the wall, the girl’s intense gaze locked on her own with an arm to her neck, her other arm clutching something cold and metal to her forehead.

And that was how Pamela Isley found herself being held at gunpoint in her own shop.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a companion fic, written purely in Ivy's perspective. The one in Harley's POV can be found on wattpad, and this fic is also cross posted there just for ease. It is a collaboration with someone else, gaygent_danvers on wattpad, please follow them and read the other fic. However, this CAN be read as a standalone fic if ur not into that stuff. :) Read and Comment, reviews make me happy.


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